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"Every revolting scent and sight is described so thoroughly, that it felt as though at that moment I was THERE. I found this book quite enjoyable... These pages have something for every reader, and I highly recommend it!"

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The Hobgoblin of Truth No. 16


and the cold

has me smoking in

the garage on break

from writing

it was waiting for me

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The Light Show

i sat in the backyard

with my wife

and all the lights were out

to see the fireworks a few blocks away

when we moved in

we were sure we’d see them

and we did

     bursting bright behind a tree

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Childhood Games

there was a big room at school

above the gymnasium

where we’d get to watch a VHS

an anti-drug PSA filled with copyrighted characters

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a lot going on


the universe expanded exponentially

the galaxies moved apart or collided

                     drifting in dark infinity

and the solar systems swirled on

                     with all their pretty lights

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mosquitoes the size of spiders

all that rain not only

cut the heat fifteen degrees

but it summoned up a swarm

of mosquitoes the size of spiders

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the 400s 

i’m well into the 400s

and i still don’t feel

          like a


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The Hobgoblin of Truth No.15

The bastard found me

As I walked out of a family


And kept pace the whole ride home

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[on a walk there was a row of ants]

on a walk there was a row of ants

millions of red specks

their legs and faces too small to see

and the line of them stretched for half

a block

ending in sandy holes alive with more of them


i thought how strange it would be

if they wrote their histories on the walls

in languages older than time

and all sang the name of their queen

billionth of her name

and move to new cracks in the sidewalk

expanding and growing the lines above

                               and below

so that they can be a part of something

that will live beyond them

to some glorious end they will never see


the clouds are fat with rain

soon all that work will be washed away

and maybe they’ll sing songs of queens

                                    long dead

before their washed into the gutters


the man you married

the car said it was 110

the day I walked around

looking for greeting cards

two of them for my anniversary


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the hounds at my desk

even now i am fighting the hounds away

snapping from the shadows

               of my desk

               my computer

their barks sound like agendas

               and paperwork

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